


Buzzed

by colorofmymind



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorofmymind/pseuds/colorofmymind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry knew that, as a result of gaining his abilities, he couldn't feel anything from alcohol anymore. But Oliver was determined to prove him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buzzed

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one was totally random and came out of nowhere. Seriously, I sat down planning on writing another chapter for Heroines, and then this just happened. Hope you guys enjoy!

Barry would humor Oliver, just this once. After all, they’d just stopped a gang fight from erupting in the Glades, and overall had had a successful patrol of the city afterwards. It seemed the success of the night rubbed off well on Oliver since he proposed they celebrate, which, honestly, was the possibility Barry had really been hoping for when he’d run over here.

However, it appeared that the two vigilantes did not share the same idea of “celebration” as Barry had hoped for, and he found himself sitting at the bar counter of the Verdant, after closing hours, of course. Apparently Thea was already at Oliver’s apartment, so that shot down the eagerly anticipated option, much to Barry’s disappointment. Oliver poured gin and tonic into their two glasses, handing the one to him.

“Cheers,” Barry said, clinking his glass with Oliver’s. He braced himself for the oncoming flat taste. He knew his metabolism would immediately process any lingering buzz he’d get from the alcohol. One of the few disadvantages of his powers: his party life was officially over, if it had ever even started.

He must have made a face when he swallowed because the older man glanced over at him, screwing his eyebrows in mild confusion.

“Is gin and tonic not your drink? You could have told me,” Oliver chided fondly, leaning over the counter so that his face was level with Barry’s.

He looked down momentarily, thinking over his options. The fact that it was physically impossible for him to get drunk or at least a little buzzed was a little more than embarrassing for him to admit, but he supposed the act was up. It was best to clear up the confusion now than for him to be drinking flat alcohol all night.

“No, it’s not that,” he started, “it’s just… I don’t—I can’t get a buzz. I can’t get drunk. It’s my metabolism; I don’t feel any of it, even if I drank ten shots. I just didn't tell you because I didn't want to ruin this, you know, with my weird immunity to all alcohol.”

Oliver fixed him an incredulous look before setting his own drink down. “All alcohol?”

“I mean, I haven’t exactly tested all the alcohol in the world because that kind of puts a dent in _some_ people’s wallets, but Caitlin was pretty sure when she ran the tests on alcohol concentration in my bloodstream,” he replied.

Some kind of look passed over the older man’s face, at first parts dissatisfied and then a sort of spark lit his eyes. Before Barry could discern what it meant, Oliver stepped back from the counter and crouched below to where the forensic scientist couldn't see him. He only just resisted the temptation to use his super-speed to run back behind the counter to see what exactly his partner was doing.

The billionaire quickly (well, not by his own standards, but he supposed that it was fast for people with average speed) rose back up another glass and a bottle of some clear liquid. Barry couldn't read the label with Oliver’s hand covering it in his grip, but the man unscrewed the lid and poured it into the new glass until it was half full. He slid it across the counter top, but Barry decided not to wait any longer for the glass’s slow inertia and he picked it up with his super-speed, studying the liquid inside.

“That’s the strongest tequila we have here. Tell me you don’t get the slightest kick out of that,” Oliver dared, a smirk steadily creeping onto his face.

He’d heard about tequila's potency, and he never dared to touch the stuff, but that was in his college days when he could actually get drunk and went to bars maybe once a month. But if Caitlin’s theory about his system’s reaction to alcohol was right, which he was pretty confident it was, drinking it couldn't really hurt. He looked to Oliver once before downing the whole thing, slamming it back down on the counter. And…

“Nothing. I felt nothing,” Barry declared confidently, feeling only a little satisfied that he proved Oliver wrong.

There was a glimpse of disbelief in the other man’s eyes. “Nothing?” Oliver asked skeptically. At Barry’s shaking of his head in response, Oliver cast his head downwards, muttering something that sounded like “unbelievable” before reaching for another glass underneath the counter and pouring some tequila into that. Barry watched in patience, smiling when Oliver made a bit of an adorable face when he swallowed of all the tequila in his glass down.

“What are you trying to prove?” He questioned playfully.

Oliver gave a rather perplexing response. “Nothing,” he repeated, only this time Barry could tell there was a difference in the word’s connotation when he said it. He said it in that tone where he was trying to overwhelm him with his suave Oliver Queen charm, and oh god, did it work on him. That voice sent shivers throughout his body whenever he heard it, thought of it even. And Barry could only be both scared and thrilled attempting to guess what his lover was trying to do right now.

The billionaire casually set his glass down and walked from behind the counter to where Barry was with a painstaking slowness. It had to be slow for anyone, not just him as a speedster, right? Oliver stopped before him, that smug smirk returning to his face.

“Oliver,” he said nervously, “what are you doing?”

His answer was not given in the form of words but was fully answered with hands pinning him down on the counter top, and succulent lips crashing onto his, urgent and insistent. Somewhere in the middle of all that Oliver’s tongue had entered the picture, playfully prodding his lips and trying to pry them open. Barry responded, kissing back, and eventually his mouth opened of its own accord at the sensation of Oliver’s lips and tongue running down his jawline.

Oliver’s tongue swiftly snuck into Barry’s mouth, and he could taste the lingering booze on his tongue but more importantly he tasted Oliver. He couldn't help but drink it all in, his mind hysterically wondering how they got to this point, while his body just _responded_. He hummed against Oliver’s lips and those shivers he had felt before turned into so much more, his whole body thrumming and— oh. _Oh_. Sometimes his lover was a sexy genius.

They pulled apart at around the same time. Oliver still kept his hands on Barry, but craned his head down so that his lips were only just a fraction away from the scientist’s right ear.

“Feel anything now?” His lover whispered huskily.

Dazed, he could only just nod.       

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End file.
